Dream for Stockholm

“I hope that Stockholm remains a city that dreams, because it dreams for us all, a story harbouring all of us, and for that it will always be despised – because in the very heart of Stockholm’s there is also a Mosque; its dome with the green copper crescent moon rises gently over Medborgarplatsen, over the trees and the open-air restaurants and the junkies and the skater’s clattering boards. The monsters always attack the dream, because in real life they are nothing but pitiful, broken people. They attack children, the attack train stations and marketplaces, they attack cities like New York, Paris: places that are floodgates where eras and civilizations meet and negotiate new ways of existence. Stockholm. After the attack, you opened up your homes and workplaces to complete strangers stranded in the city. In a way, this is why the attack took place to start with. Continue, move on, go on. Defy the nightmare. The monsters will be forgotten, become nothing, become less than grains of sand that are swept out into the darkness and the cold close to the bottom. They will drown. I pray for your dead, who are bigger than the universe, and for those close to them, for the injured and the affected. And perhaps praying is just another way of dreaming, words that people whisper and thread like beads on a string, alone in the darkness. But there is a secret power in stories, a force like that of a river, a force carrying debris, tree trunks, broken objects, our lives. Our lives that we, perhaps since long, live in the whirls of the days like these.”

By Johannes Anyuru, extract from the text first published by Dagens Nyheter.

Photographer: Khim Efraimsson

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